


Just Helping Things Along

by Aurelia_Combeferre



Category: Sumerian Religion
Genre: COVID-19, F/M, Modern Era, Pandemic - Freeform, Pandemics, Plague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29399688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurelia_Combeferre/pseuds/Aurelia_Combeferre
Summary: A conversation between an ancient plague god and his lady, set in 2021. Wear your masks, people!
Relationships: Ereshkigal/Nergal
Kudos: 3





	Just Helping Things Along

_London, February 2021_

She saw it on her phone in the evening, just as she was returning from the large fish and chips shop across the street. It was all she could do not to sigh and fling the large bag of food against the wall; rather the only sane thing to do was to tighten her grip on the takeout bag, jam her phone in her pocket and then adjust the mask so that it still properly covered the lower half of her face instead of snagging on her long brown hair. “It’s about time we had a talk,” she muttered resolutely as she stomped up the last few steps to the second-floor apartment that she could now navigate blindfolded after spending the better part of last year cooped up within.

Even before she could fish for her keys, she could already hear the footsteps on the other side of the door. “Give me a moment, I’ve got it already,’ she said tersely as she fumbled in her purse.

“Too late.” The man now standing in the open doorway grinned before reaching out to take the bag of fish and chips. “Allow me, my lady?”

A smile flitted across her face at this form of address, which after all these centuries he never failed to use. “As you wish,” she said before walking past him so she could kick off her shoes and shrug off her sable winter coat. As she took off her mask and then went to wash up quickly in their small bathroom, she watched him set down the food on the plastic table that served as dining table and desk for them both. ‘ _When once ago we had grand halls the size of this entire apartment block,’_ she could not help thinking as she now rejoined him in their living room-bedroom. Sometimes, if she just put her eyes out of focus ever so slightly, she could see him again as he was so long ago, tall and wrapped in robes inlaid with gold and gems that set off his olive skin so well, a far cry from the crisp white shirt and dark slacks that he so favored in this day and age.

In the meantime, the man stopped in the middle of transferring the vinegars and curry into separate bowls. He pushed some strands of brown hair out of his eyes, showing a faded scar across his brow. “Is something wrong, my lady Ereshkigal?” he asked, looking to his companion.

‘ _Finally,’_ she thought, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to look at him and meet his querulous dark eyes. “We need to talk, Nergal.”

“About?”

“It’s the Lunar New Year across the planet from here. Don’t you think that this has gone on quite long enough?”

Nergal raised an eyebrow. “Why, is my lady now displeased?”

“I would not say ‘displeased’ exactly, only wondering how far you and the other deities of pestilence and illness will really take matters,” Ereshkigal said, putting her hands akimbo.

“You asked for something that was more subtle yet efficient,” Nergal said. “Would you rather that I unleashed the bubonic plague again?”

“No, not that. That was too apparent and shocking, especially in Constantinople and Baghdad,” she replied, shaking her head lightly. “Then cholera was among your best for many years. Rather one of my favorites, I should say.”

“Till the human race began cleaning up their water and relocating their latrines, for the most part,” he concurred with wry distaste. “This virus, since it is not contained in water, is an improvement in terms of contagion.”

“Yes, but these new mutations?”

“I think that they are a logical development, my lady.”

Ereshkigal now raised an eyebrow. “Explain yourself.”

“If you remember, these plagues are halted when people as a whole use reason, or perhaps you would say Science, to make a concerted effort towards a cure or some form of prevention,” Nergal answered. He casually rolled up his sleeves before continuing. “It seems that the opposite is happening.”

“The existence of a vaccine would suggest otherwise.”

“I do not believe so, my lady. I looked out the window as you walked across the street, and you were the only one still masked.”

Ereshkigal paused at the recollection of that short walk to the fish and chips shop, where so many people had crowded as if there was no contagion hanging in the air between and around them. ‘ _They could fall so easily from it, yet I who will be untouched must put on a semblance of safety,’_ she thought. “You are talking then of people’s complacency?” she asked Nergal, who’d resumed plating their meal once again.

“Not only complacency, but ill-placed reason.” He reached for his phone, a recent acquisition, and pulled up something on the screen. “Read this, my lady.”

The dark-haired goddess’ eyes widened at the sight of yet another article touting the benefits of an herbal concoction against the virus. “I presume you then are amused by this latest charlatan?”

“Oh very,” Nergal deadpanned. “You might say that like myself, he is just helping things along in your service, my lady.”

Ereshkigal could only smile as she now took a seat next to his.


End file.
